The Bet
by vespertine dreams
Summary: #4-- A poker game, a bet, and a surprise for the rest of the CBI team when they see exactly what the forfeit involves. Kink-crossdressing, Slash- Patick Jane / Shawn Spencer- the rating is there for a reason. Reviews welcome.


**Notes**- All of my Psych/Mentalist fics can be read as stand-alones but if you want the whole list so far, the reading order is-

The Fake Psychics' club

Fake Psychics Reunited

Missing

The Bet

Moving On

Unconventional

_______________________________________________________________________

The Bet

Patrick Jane smiled happily as he lay his cards out on the table in front of him.

"Full house," he announced.

Teresa Lisbon groaned and threw her cards down, much to the amusement of everyone else around the table. You would think she'd know better by now than to play cards with a man who could practically read your mind.

"Wait a sec," a voice chirped up. "Royal flush."

Looking at the smug grin on Shawn Spencer's face, Lisbon knew she only had herself to blame. She was down nearly ten dollars but that was what you got for playing cards with not only Jane, but a damn psychic as well.

So far, between the two of them, they'd won the last four games. It was an even split, two games each.

"I am not playing with you two any more," she told the two men, seeing the smile they shared.

It had been a little strange at first, knowing that this guy was their colleague's boyfriend, in the sense that you never really wanted to know too much about your colleagues' sex-lives. Shawn, however, had fitted right in with them from the first day he met them all. Right after bewildering the hell out of them by presenting each person with a pineapple with a red ribbon tied around it in a bow, that was.

He was a little odd at times but then, for that exact reason, he and Patrick seemed perfect for each other.

Since he had come over for the weekend, Rigsby had extended the invitation to him for their weekly poker game. Lisbon knew then that the others had accepted Shawn as she had; not everyone got an invitation to poker night. From their game tonight, however, she did have serious doubts as to whether or not the two of them would actually be allowed to do anything more than watch in future.

"Best of five?" Patrick offered, gathering the cards back up and passing them to Rigsby to shuffle.

"You're on." Shawn eyed the piles of bills and coins in front of Patrick and himself. "How about making this a little more interesting, though."

"That depends what you have in mind."

"A forfeit to the loser," Shawn told him, a broad grin on his face.

There was something about the look in Shawn's eyes that should have made Patrick refuse then and there but Rigsby nodded.

"He's in. Come on, Jane, it'll be fun." He turned around to Van Pelt and Cho. "I have five bucks says that Patrick can beat him."

Cho smiled and dug into his pocket. "No chance," he said, slapping a five dollar bill down onto the chair next to the one Rigsby had put there. "I hate to say it, but I'm backing Spencer."

"I'll take that bet too," Lisbon told them, adding her money to the bills. "On Jane."

Shawn looked across the table at his lover, resisting the urge to reach over and run his fingers through those silky blonde curls. He couldn't help it; Patrick was a damn good looking man, even if he didn't seem to realise it half of the time. He always seemed just that little bit surprised when Shawn pointed it out to him. And that wasn't even getting him started on those suits. For some reason, the sight of Patrick in his tailored suit and fitted waistcoat underneath made Shawn want to pin him to the nearest wall and kiss him senseless.

He'd been as surprised as everyone else had when he'd started dating Patrick. Maybe that old saying of opposites attracting was right after all. Not their jobs, obviously, but he knew that in appearance he was as far from Patrick as they could get. Where Patrick was impeccably groomed from the moment he woke up, Shawn tended to go for a more laid back approach. Meaning that, usually, the first thing he found when he got up was what he wore that day and no matter how much he tried, he still seemed to look as though he'd just crawled out of bed.

"I like that you look as though you've just got out of my bed," Patrick had told him with a teasing smile and long kiss when he'd been musing over the subject one day.

"So what forfeit are you playing for?" Rigsby asked, having collected up the bets and handed them to Van Pelt for safekeeping.

Shawn looked at Patrick. "Do you remember what we were talking about last night?" He saw the frown on the other man's face. "In the movie?"

He knew the moment that Patrick caught on as his eyes widened. "Oh no, no way. That was a joke."

Lisbon leaned in, elbows resting on the table. "What was a joke?" She paused. "This is going to be something I really don't want to know, isn't it?"

Shawn shook his head. "It's nothing dirty. Well, maybe a bit kinky but PG-kinky not X-rated-kinky."

Patrick raised one blonde eyebrow at him and he relented, mentally agreeing that it was closer to 15-rated-kinky. Especially when his ever-helpful imagination provided him a sneak preview of Patrick, should he lose.

"Winner pays. Deal?" Patrick asked. Shawn nodded.

Rigsby frowned. "What kind of a forfeit is this if the winner has to pay? Not that anyone will tell us what the forfeit _is_," he pointed out, angling for information and getting none.

"We'll tell you tomorrow evening," Shawn promised.

Lisbon saw the look that passed between them and her curiosity piqued; this might just be worth waiting to hear. She took the cards from Rigsby and dealt them out.

-------

"I'm not doing this."

"A bet is a bet. You can't back out now."

He sighed, glaring when his lover added,

"Besides, it's not my fault you suck at poker."

-------

Lisbon looked up as Shawn walked into the office. He and Patrick had left about two hours ago, promising to return.

"Hey, Shawn. Where's Patrick?"

"Here."

There was a long moment of stunned silence as the blonde woman in the black dress strutted into the room on her three-inch stilettos. Long legs clad in black stockings disappeared under the short black dress, the dress tight-fitting with a short black jacket over the top. Blonde wavy hair fell to her shoulders, a silver choker around her throat.

"Patrick?" Rigsby's mouth fell open as he looked his colleague up and down. "Wh- I- I don't really know what to say," he admitted.

Patrick sighed and glared at Shawn, the glare turning to a smile as the other man leaned up to press a kiss to his ruby-painted lips. He'd tried to veto the lipstick but Shawn had argued that if he'd already got the eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow and blush, he might as well wear the lipstick. When he put it like that, Patrick had to admit that he had a point.

"So this is the bet?"

Shawn shook his head, still grinning. "No, the bet was that he'd come to dinner with me like this."

He slipped an arm around Patrick's waist, receiving a slap on the hand when he groped Patrick's backside.

"What kind of a girl do you think I am?" Patrick asked.

Cho folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head as he looked Patrick over one last time.

"You know the really worrying thing?" he asked. "He actually looks pretty good as a woman."

Lisbon gave a snort of laughter. "He's got better legs than I do." When Patrick moved to lean against the desk behind him, she blinked, not believing her eyes. "Hold on, are you wearing stockings?"

With a sigh, knowing that he'd never live this down and vowing silently to never again play poker with Shawn, he nodded. He raised the hem of his dress a little to reveal the lacy tops, the black straps of the garter belt visible.

"Oh my God," Rigsby laughed. "I don't know which will haunt me the most, that sight or the fake boobs."

Shawn grinned at his 'date' and held out an arm for Patrick to slip his hand through.

"Well, we should be going," he told them.

-------

OK, Patrick thought, that hadn't been as weird as he thought it would. The most alarming part had been that hardly anyone had even batted an eye at the fact he was in drag. It wasn't as though he was easy to miss; with the heels on, it put him at over six feet tall.

"Could you quit that until we get inside?" he said to Shawn as his boyfriend's hand crept under his skirt for the third time.

Shawn sighed, forcing an innocent look onto his face and clasping his hands behind his back. It took all of three seconds before he unclasped them and took the keys from Patrick to unlock the door himself. Before the door had even closed, Shawn had Patrick pressed to the wall, kissing him desperately. His hands strayed again, warm against the bare skin above the stocking tops.

"If that's the reaction it gets, I might let you dress me up more often," Patrick said breathlessly. "Let me take these damn shoes off and then I think we should take this to bed."

"No!"

Patrick frowned. "No?"

"Not 'no' on going to bed," Shawn told him hastily. His cheeks flushed a little. "I don't suppose, I mean, could you keep them on? The shoes, I mean."

"Something you want to tell me, love?" Patrick asked, amused.

Shawn's fingers ran over the lace of the stockings, tracing up higher to Patrick's underwear.

"OK, so maybe the thought of you in this gets me kinda hot," he admitted, his eyes not quite meeting Patrick's. "You think I'm weird, don't you?"

Patrick hooked a finger under Shawn's chin, making him look up. "No. Well, OK, maybe a little, but that's why I love you." He kissed the tip of Shawn's nose and then took his hand, setting off towards his bedroom.

He let Shawn strip him out of the dress and jacket before dropping his own clothes with them on the floor.

"Can I get rid of this?" Patrick asked, removing the bra and false breasts once Shawn nodded. How women wore the damn things all day was beyond him.

He smiled at the hungry look in Shawn's eyes as his gaze roamed over him; it seemed that his boyfriend had a definite fetish for stockings. Shawn groaned softly into the kiss as he rolled his hips, grinding against Patrick.

"I want you," Shawn whispered, hands everywhere as he edged Patrick back to the bed. He tried to remove the lace thong he'd convinced Patrick to wear but it got tangled in the rest of his underwear. In frustration, he fisted the material in his hands and ripped, tossing it aside.

"Well I can honestly say that's the first time anyone literally ripped my clothes off," Patrick quipped, his breath hitching as Shawn's fingers teased, getting him ready.

Shawn growled softly. How the hell could Patrick still be joking? He could barely remember his own name at this point. Still, Patrick's eyes glazed over and the comment on the tip of his tongue was left unsaid as Shawn eased into him. He almost purred when Patrick wrapped those stocking-clad legs around him, the heels of the stilettos brushing his skin when he moved. Reaching between them, he closed his palm around Patrick's cock, working him as he began to move.

-------

"Damn, Shawn," Patrick gasped as he got his breath back.

Mustering the energy to get to his feet and find a cloth to clean them both up, he shed the remaining underwear. Nudging Shawn to move, he managed to get them both under the covers and pulled Shawn's slender body to his. His boyfriend smiled sleepily and cuddled in closer.

"Patrick?"

Patrick smiled. "Yes?"

"What you said before, did you mean it?" Shawn leaned his chin on Patrick's chest and looked up through his lashes. "You said 'that was why you loved me'."

It wasn't often that he saw this side to Shawn, the unsure, hesitant side of him. He smiled.

"Yes, I meant it," he said. "I love you. I didn't say it to pressure you or anything; I just wanted you to know."

Shawn shuffled up the bed until his head was level with Patrick's on the pillows.

"Patrick?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

Patrick's smile widened and he stole a kiss. "Good, because I don't wear a dress for just anyone, you know."

End.


End file.
